


the winter of our discontent

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, Short & Sweet, Survivor Guilt, basically my sweeties being there for each other, mild mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Marius and Cosette each struggle with their own demons. Together.





	the winter of our discontent

**Author's Note:**

> i fully intend to add another chapter to honey & vanilla and i have a HUGE multichap thing in the works but have some very short angst in the meantime  
> (it's shitty because i wrote it at 2:30 in the morning thanks)

Early in the morning, Marius sits in the study, staring out the window at the snow falling. It's late in December now, just over six months since the tragedy, and every day he feels farther and farther away from it, which simultaneously fills him with relief and dread- relief, because he's desperate for solace from the ghastly memories that haunt him, the pain in his left shoulder that persists, the smell of blood, the sounds of distant screams, gunfire, despair, that so often wake him from his sleep in a cold sweat, like it had today. He dreads it, too, because he's terrified of forgetting. Unless he really concentrates, it's difficult for him to remember his friend's impromptu seating positions at the Musain; the sound of Enjolras's powerful voice of Courfeyrac's boisterous laugh, Grantaire's lopsided smile is blurred in his memory and he's worried that soon he won't be able to remember at all.  _If I had gone with them, there would be nothing to be afraid of_ he thinks, but quickly banishes that thought- he has more than enough as he is.

Cosette is in the bedroom, staring at the ceiling. She feels trapped, like the walls are closing in on all sides of her. She spent so much of her life alone, in her own company, that she's still quite unsure of how to keep anyone else's. Marius is her favourite companion, and together they pass the hours discussing, laughing, singing, dancing, reading to each other, getting along as well as possible. They're husband and wife, but what's more, they're best friends. She loves him, and she  _knows_ he loves her, but the moment she's out of his company her mind swirls with doubts, locking into the all-too familiar cycle of chilling thoughts-  _what if he doesn't really love me? What if he's just being polite? He probably thinks me so odd, so boring; I know nothing of the world, how could he love me?-_ Memories of her time as a child servant in the house Thenarier soon arise, and continue to push her down the slope-  _I'm such a fool, such a claude, such a stupid little girl._  But as soon as those thoughts appear, she brings her left hand up, pressing her lips to the fourth finger, feeling the cool wedding band, the surest sign that he loves her, she has nothing to fear.

When she had awoken to find Marius gone fro their bed, her heart had momentarily stopped, feeling she was once again a young girl, alone, unaccompanied and isolated, with nobody but herself, her own (sometimes vicious) thoughts. But this had happened before, Marius's nightmares of the revolution drawing him away from where he felt safest, a sort of silent punishment to himself. Cosette's mind immediately takes her to the darkest possible place.  _Because of you, your father risked his life to bring him home, and now he's all alone and feels guilty and wishes he had died, too._ She swallows thickly, trying not to make Marius's plight against her, but it's difficult when it feels like she's to blame- her mother died trying to save her, her father nearly died alone to keep her from heartache, and her husband felt better off dead. Something about her brings destruction.

Despite the fact that she feels wholly responsible for his plight, she decides to go find Marius. She seeks him where he always ends up; in his study. His chair is turned to the window. The room is covered in the dark blue light of morning that scatters and frays at the farthest corners. She comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his chest, and he jumps at the touch.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, retreating. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Marius smiles weakly, tiredly, and pats the arm of the chair. Cosette sits, and he wraps an arm around her waist. "It's alright," he says, "a quiet house has always made me anxious."

They stare out the window for a few quiet moments, watching the thick, full flakes of snow fall to the ground. Cosette turns to Marius and runs her hand through his hair. "What are you thinking about?"

Marius presses his lips together and looks at his lap. She knows him too well for him to be able to lie to her. "My friends." He mutters thickly.

"Oh, love." Cosette presses her lips to his temple. They've been here often enough that it almost feels like a script, but each word is still genuine, meant and felt truly. "It's not your fault."

"I know." Marius swallows and nods. "I just... They tried so hard. Their cause was just and righteous. And they still failed. They all paid the ultimate price, trying to give a better life to those who deserve it. And I survived out of pure privilege."

Cosette's throat closes.  _So it is my fault._ "Marius..." She doesn't know what to say anymore, not with this overwhelming guilt brimming in her chest. "If there was any way I could have stopped it, saved them for you, kept you all together, you know I would have. I would to anything to give them back to you, and take away the strife you're feeling." She chokes. "You tried, too. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to feel ashamed for being alive."

"I don't feel ashamed for being alive," Marius tells her, "I feel ashamed that I lived and they all died. Every last one of them, save for me."

Cosette turns her head away, not wanting him to see her cry. She presses her knuckles to her lips, trying to keep her sobs silent. "Marius, I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault." He chides lightly, trying, as always, to bring some light back into the room. When she's silent for too long, he looks up at her to find her turned almost completely away from him, hiding her face. "Darling? What's wrong? What is it?" She fails to respond a second time, and so he grasps her by her hips and pulls her over the arm of the chair and into his lap. She hides her face in his chest so he still can't see it, but he can feel her body shaking with the force of her sobs. "Cosette? Talk to me, love, please."

"It  _is_ my fault!" She cries, feeling pathetic. "If my father  _-my father,_ oh god- hadn't gone to save you, you'd be with your friends, you wouldn't feel so crushed, you'd... You'd..." She's cut off by another overwhelming sob.

Marius cradles her, stoking her hair, holding her as close as possible without physically hurting her. "Cosette, do you honestly believe that?" He asks quietly.

"I'm sorry." She says again, quiet and voice trembling, because even after all these years, after all of the love she's endured, first from her father then from Marius, she still fears punishment for crying. "I'm sorry."

"Look at me." Marius tells her, and he has to give her a few gentle nudges before she finally does, eyes wet and bottom lip worried beneath her teeth. "Every day, I wake up thankful beyond words that I'm alive, because I'm alive with you. At the end of the day, Cosette, you are what keeps me grateful for my life. You are what keeps me strong through everything. Even at the barricades, every single one of my actions was motivated by my love for you. You are my guardian angel, keeping me safe and protected through everything."

"But your friends," she sniffles.

"They made their choice." Marius's voice deepens a little, and his eyes glaze over for a moment before welling up. "They... They knew what they were fighting for. They knew what they were risking." It's the first time he's realized that, and it's cathartic and holy and his chest opens up, cracked open and spilling sunlight as he realizes-  _it's not his fault._

"I- I-" Cosette wants to speak, wants to explain herself, wants to tell him why she feels what she feels and how strongly she feels it and re-tell him her life story so maybe he will understand everything, but instead she settled her head on his chest. He already knows everything there is to know, already understands, they've talked about this at length, and, she doesn't have to justify herself to him, not now or ever, he said so himself.

"We don't have to talk about it right now." Marius lets his tears fall, then wipes them away, smiling. "All I want to do right now is be here, with you. Right where I always wanted to be. Right where I want to be now. Right where I belong."

They snuggle into each other, each feeling a hundred pounds lighter and refreshed, watching the snow fall outside, knowing they have nothing to fear.


End file.
